Visiting Hours
by C0bwebb
Summary: This story was inspired by MajorSam's story "Visitation." It can stand alone but will make more sense if you read hers first at /s/6506623/1/Visitation . It's also part of the 12 days of Sexmas series.


VISITING HOURS

It had taken three tranquilizer rounds and all of the available Sanctuary personnel to get John Druitt restrained and transported to SHU. Helen wasn't aware of any of it, thanks to the injuries John had inflicted upon her. She had been sedated in the infirmary while the medical staff tended to her wounds. Meanwhile, Henry scrambled to try to figure out how Druitt had managed to breach the Sanctuary's security systems to enter Helen's room and attack her in the first place.

Although Druitt was now restrained and in one of the Sanctuary's maximum-security cells, Will had insisted that he should remain sedated until Henry was certain that Druitt would not be able to teleport out of the cell. Two days had now passed and Henry had isolated and repaired the security gaps. Physically, Helen had recovered but she was having a difficult time coming to terms with what John had done to her. Will had tried to talk to her but she refused to speak about it. In spite of Will's concern, Helen had returned to work as soon as she was able to get out of bed.

Druitt couldn't have chosen a worse time to attack. It was mid-December, which was one of the Sanctuary's busiest months. In addition to the "usual" Sanctuary business, there were also a myriad of holiday cocktail and dinner parties to plan and host. Her staff had done their best trying to take care of as much as they could without interrupting her recovery. Still, her knowledge of the abnormal community and her experience as a host were necessary for many of the details. Helen was lucky that her unusual physiology allowed her to heal faster than most people.

Once Henry informed Helen that the EM shield was secure and that there was no chance of Druitt escaping, she decided that she wanted to see him. When Will found out what Helen intended to do, he tried everything he could to talk her out of it, but Helen would not be dissuaded.

And now Helen stood inside Druitt's maximum-security cell less than six feet away from the man who had filled her soul with incredible joy as well as inflicting unimaginable pain. The man who had assaulted her two days ago. The man she still loved…even now. John Druitt.

Now that the Sanctuary was secure, the staff had discontinued the tranquilizers that had kept John asleep. _He should be waking up in the next few minutes_, she thought. Helen told herself that she only wanted to _see_ him to reassure herself that he was secure. She would leave before he woke up. She didn't think she could face him once the sedation wore off.

She stepped closer to the bed where John lay motionless. She was now less than two feet away from him. Even after what had happened, after what he'd done to her, she couldn't feel hatred toward him. Angry, betrayed, confused, hurt, yes; extremely hurt…but no hate. She stared down at his bare chest. He had been completely naked when they had captured him, in the hallway just outside her bedroom, covered only in her blood. Now he wore thin cotton pajama bottoms and someone had cleaned him up, _the Big Guy, most likely,_ she thought.

Helen looked at the belted leather straps that bound his wrists and ankles to the bed. She checked them, not really knowing why, and satisfied herself that they were secure. He would not be able to get up from the bed or even move until someone allowed him to do so. Helen's hand seeming to act on its own reached out to touch his cheek and then moved lightly down his bare arm finally coming to rest over his right hand. John's hand flexed lightly momentarily grasping hers and then quickly relaxed. His eyes moved slightly under their closed lids. She noted that his breathing was becoming more shallow. _It won't be long before he's awake_, she thought.

Helen started to leave, then hesitated. She was afraid to be there when he woke up. Afraid of her questions, afraid of his answers, and above all afraid of her own reactions to him. She tried desperately not to blame him for what he had done to her, realizing his life was a continual battle between his own will and that of "Jack," the energy creature that inhabited John's body. John had tried to keep it at bay; had fought it as best he could. Nevertheless, some things could not be controlled by sheer will power alone. She knew this and yet she couldn't help feeling betrayed. Not only by John, who up until this time had never physically harmed her, but also by her heart, which had allowed her body to respond to John as she always had, ignoring the warning signals until it was too late. _I should have tried harder to escape, I knew he would turn violent, why did I allow this to happen_, she couldn't stop the questions running through her mind. She hated herself for continuing to love this man, even after he had almost killed her.

As she continued to stare at him, unable to make herself leave, she was struck by how vulnerable, how helpless he now seemed. Had the events of two nights ago played out differently seeing John in this helpless state would have elicited feelings of compassion. Instead as she stared down at him all of the confusion, love, longing, desire, hurt, and betrayal she'd been feeling merged into raging anger. Anger at the energy creature for what it had stolen from John and for its attempt on her life. Anger at John for his inability to control the creature despite his efforts and for his inability to prevent what had happened.

Suddenly she longed to strike Druitt. Her hands ached to grasp his neck, to squeeze his airway closed until he turned blue and stared at her with the same look of confusion and hurt she had given him two nights ago. She wanted to beat and kick him until he was bruised and bleeding, the same way she had been.

Druitt's hand, still in hers, flexed again causing her to start. Helen realized the danger of the thoughts she was now entertaining. She released John's hand, and resolving to talk to Will tomorrow, she turned to leave. She wanted to get out of the cell as quickly as possible. Before –

"Helen…?"

She froze. She had almost reached the door when he whispered her name.

"Helen, please…?" he whispered hoarsely.

She knew she needed to ignore him, needed to get out of the cell, and escape to the safety of her office. But she couldn't leave. She turned to look at him. His eyes were still closed although he seemed to be trying to open them.

"Helen…!" he called out louder this time. His voice full of anguish and fear.

Helen realized John was still unable to open his eyes and therefore could not see her clearly. _He probably isn't even certain that I'm in his cell_, she thought. She hesitated, and then returned to his side. Staring at him as he continued to call out to her, but saying nothing.

"Helen? I'm so sorry. Are you alright – ?"

That was the final straw. Suddenly all the rage she'd been feeling rose within her. Blinded by the sudden rush of anger, she slapped his face as hard as she could. Now fully awake John's eyes snapped open to stare at her in disbelief. Helen continued slapping him until she was completely spent. Finally collapsing in tears on the floor next to the bed.

"How could you possibly ask me that after what you did to me?" she sobbed. "After what you did to us?" she added in a whisper. Resting her forehead against the cool metal frame of the bed.

John longed to hold her even though he knew it was the last thing she'd want. The site of her face buried against the mattress was too much for him to bear. Although he couldn't move his hand, he managed to extend his fingers just enough to stroke her hair. As he did this, his finger tips lightly brushed against her forehead. The feel of his skin on hers, startled her and she jumped to her feet. The fact that she had flinched made her even angrier. She jumped onto the bed, placed her knee in the center of his chest, and grasped his throat with both hands.

"Don't you ever touch me again!" she shouted.

John knew she had every right to be angry, to hate him, even. He hated himself for what he and "Jack" had done to her, for his lack of control, and for what "Jack" had tried to do to her. If the energy creature had succeeded, Helen would be dead now.

Helen's grip tightened around John's neck. His face began to turn red, then blue. "Helen please…don't," he begged. John gasped trying to draw in what little air he could. He stared up at her with pleading eyes and she returned his look with a cold angry glare. For the first time John wondered fleetingly if, she would actually kill him.

"Helen," he pleaded. "This isn't you. You don't want to do this. Please stop."

He watched her staring down at him. Even when angry she was still beautiful and he wanted her. Wanted to touch her again, more gently this time. He wanted to show her how terrible he felt over what he had done to her. As he continued to look at her, pleading with his eyes for a mercy that he knew he did not deserve, he felt her grip on his neck relax ever so slightly.

Suddenly, without removing her hands from his neck, Helen bent down and kissed him. Crushing his mouth with hers.

"Helen what…" was all he managed to say before she pushed her tongue between his lips with a force that was almost suffocating.

In spite of his fear, he found himself responding to her kiss. He began to wonder just how far she would go. A part of him, or perhaps the energy creature, was tempted to push her, to see what her limit was. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that her ankle rested between his legs. Each time she moved or shifted her weight her ankle rubbed against him and his body responded.

Helen was keenly aware of how helpless John was at the moment. With his ankles and wrists bound to the bed, he was at her mercy now; the tables had turned. All the years of worry, pain, and frustration he had caused her suddenly came boiling to the surface. She wanted to hurt him…to make him feel the way he had made her feel for over a century.

Suddenly releasing her chokehold on his neck, she moved back straddling him. She sat staring at him for several minutes, and John realized he had no idea what she was thinking.

"Helen, I – "

"BE QUIET!" She shouted. Her reaction was so suddenly that it made him flinch.

As she stared down at him, Helen fumed with rage. She was pleased to note the shock and fear in his expression. He was completely helpless right now…just as she had been two nights ago. Then she noticed something else…the barest hint of arousal beneath the thin fabric of his pajama pants.

_So a part of him is actually enjoying this_, she thought. "_But which part? Who? John or Jack? Does it really matter_? she wondered.

John saw her hesitation and tried to reason with her again. This time he was physically silenced when Helen roughly clamped her hand over his mouth. John struggled, as much as he was able to in the restraints, shaking his head and trying to dislodge her hand. He only succeeded in shifting it to a position that was now covering both his mouth and nose; making breathing all but impossible. When he felt himself beginning to suffocate, John panicked. He struggled harder, trying to yell even though Helen's hand muffled the sound. He feared he might pass out and in a final act of desperation, he bit down hard on Helen's hand.

Screaming out of anger as much as pain, Helen immediately she yanked her hand back. She sat staring for a moment, rubbing the marks left by his teeth. Then without warning, she slapped him hard across his face. He continued to try to protest but in response, Helen grabbed his face again, and leaning down, inches away from his mouth she snarled, "I told you to be quiet!" As he continued to protest, she leaned in further and again crushed his mouth with her lips. This time her kiss was so forceful that it left bruises on his mouth.

John was shocked by her behavior and given his current state of helplessness, he was also a bit frightened. As Helen now threatened to suffocate him with her tongue, he wondered what he should do. He knew he deserved her anger, after what he had done to her; but he also missed her. Even as angry as she was, John found the feel of her body on top of his to be rather intoxicating. He also realized that in her present state, he had no way of knowing if she would kill him or not.

Helen pushed her tongue harder into John's mouth, further cutting off his air supply, and John felt himself beginning to panic again. He responded to her by biting down hard on her tongue. She cried out against his lips withdrawing her tongue slightly but keeping her lips crushed against his. John could taste the blood in his mouth, her blood. Suddenly Helen bit down hard on his lower lip. John groaned in pain as she thrust her tongue back into his mouth. He answered her by biting her tongue again, softer this time and he felt her relax a bit.

Leaning as far forward as the restraints would allow, John pushed his tongue against hers. The taste of their blood mingling together in their mouths was both intoxicating and disturbing. John felt Helen's hips begin to move over him, grinding against him in response to the kiss. Her leg was close to his hand so he tried to stroke her leg with his fingers, but that only made her angry again…she wanted him completely helpless. Helen reached down crushing his hand with hers in order to stop him, and she felt rewarded when John cried out again in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Helen stopped for a moment. Looking down she noticed the bulge in John's pajama pants. "Is this what you want from me?" she screamed in anger and confusion. Rising from the bed, Helen moved to stand near John's ankles. Suddenly she began ripping the fabric of the pajamas a little at a time beginning at the ankles and working her way up. John flinched with both fear and desire at the sound of the fabric giving way under Helen's hands. For her part, Helen relished the sound of the ripping fabric and found John's reaction to it thrilling.

Finally, with John completely exposed to her, Helen stared down at him in a mixture of anger, hurt, and lust. John longed for her forgiveness as much as he feared her anger. Suddenly he realized that she must need this in order to get past what he'd done to her. Although he was somewhat unnerved by Helen's aggressive behavior, John decided to submit to her even if it jeopardized his safety. If this was what she needed to get over him, to feel in control again, this is what he would give her.

Slowly, Helen began to undress. As she did, she carefully folded her clothing and placed it on a nearby chair. John watched her, feeling his body straining with desire. He winced when caught his first glimpse of the wound and bruises he had inflicted upon her two days earlier. When she finished removing her clothes, she moved to stand at the end of the bed by his feet. It was then that he noticed she had removed all of her clothing except for her high-heeled boots.

Helen stared down at John's ankles. Restraints bound each ankle to a corner of the small bed and held his feet about a shoulder's width apart. John wondered if she would free him. He hoped she would at least free his legs. He was tempted to beg her for some freedom of movement but thought better of it. He was frightened by the look in her eyes, by his utter helplessness, and by her continuing silence.

As Helen stared down at him, her eyes traveled slowly up his calves to his strong lean thighs pausing for a while on his growing erection and then continuing up his waist to his chest his neck his mouth and then finally meeting his eyes.

John searched her face but found he couldn't read her expression. This was the most vulnerable he'd felt in a long while, maybe ever, and it frightened him. Helen sensed John's fear, could see it in his eyes, and she was thrilled by it.

Slowly, Helen climbed onto the foot of the bed and knelt near his feet. She leaned down and John's skin tingled when he felt her breath on his ankle. He felt her hair brush lightly against the skin of his legs and he shuddered. John began to relax a little when she pressed her lips to the flesh along the inside of his legs. Helen slowly opened her mouth allowing her tongue to caress his skin. John sighed and relaxed even more, suddenly uttering a moan of pleasure. His moan quickly converts to a cry of pain as Helen bites down hard on the area she had previously kissed. John cried out repeatedly in pleasure and pain as Helen, alternating between kissing and biting, worked her way up both of his thighs leaving trails of bruises and occasionally even drawing blood. When she reached the apex of his thighs, Helen paused for a while and looked up at him.

"Is this what you want? Is this what you want from me?" she asked in rough angry tone.

John stared down at her face hovering inches above his erection. "Helen, please…" he begs.

She stared back at him expressionless. "Shhhhh!" she said, more softly this time. Taking his length in her hand and she stroked him softly. Giving in to a wave of desire, John closed his eyes and gave another audible sigh of relief. Helen responded by biting again this time at the skin near the base of his shaft. John cried out again in shock and pain.

"Hush," Helen said gently kissing and licking the spot, she had bitten. Taking him into her mouth, she worked him with her tongue. She pushed him to the edge but stopped just short of what he needed. She raised her head to stare at him again enjoying the anguished look on his face. Helen waited for him to calm down a bit and then repeats the process.

"Helen, oh God, please…" he begged repeatedly.

Helen found pleasure in hearing him plead with her but eventually she pulled away from him to reposition herself over him. She straddled him hooking the heels of her boots underneath his thighs. With John's erection just inches away from her center, she crushed her mouth down on his once again. John gently bites her tongue and she moans softly. Then she pressed her heels against his thighs, and pushed him into her with a sudden force.

John groaned as he felt his body enter hers but Helen didn't give him time to rest, pulling away from him and impaling herself on him repeatedly. The sharp heels of her boots cut into John's thighs leaving deep scratches along his legs. John did his best to stay with her pushing into as much as the restraints would allow.

Finally, Helen leaned forward and allowed John to thrust into her. She closed her eyes enjoying the feeling of his body moving against hers. Within moments Helen, felt the tension that had built up in her body suddenly release. As she screamed above him, John felt Helen's body tighten around him and he cried out suddenly exploding inside of her.

Helen collapsed on top of him resting her head against his shoulder. John could feel her body still trembling in the wake of their orgasm. As John lay still and waited for his breathing to calm, he became aware of a trickle of moisture along his collarbone and he realized that Helen was crying. The restraints made it impossible for him to put his arms around her or to comfort her in anyway. This final punishment was almost more than he could bear and he felt tears beginning to slide down his own cheeks as well. Determined to do as much as the restraints would allow, John leaned forward and lightly kissed the top of her head, half hoping that she wouldn't feel it. He inhaled deeply taking in the scent of her hair…a scent he'd been missing. He closed his eyes and relaxed, thankful just to have her so close to him again, and no longer caring what she did to him.

After her breathing calmed Helen realized that John had fallen asleep. She dressed silently and left the cell returning later with clean sheets and bandages. She gently cleaned the wounds left by her boots, changed the sheets in silence, and left again without speaking a word to John.


End file.
